


From Dusk Till Dawn

by Naomida



Series: Fire Meet Gasoline [7]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Captivity, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 22:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12735330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomida/pseuds/Naomida
Summary: The Waning Crescent is attacked by the Legion and it all goes wrong for Lidya.





	From Dusk Till Dawn

The problem with good things and a week-off in Dalaran was that it always had to end, at some point, and after what had to be the best week of her life, Lidya had to go back to Suramar, where it only took her twenty seven minutes to feel miserable.

For a while she fell into that rhythm. She’d go back to Dalaran for a few days, or Varian would drop by, dressed like a guard, and they would spend some time together, far away from the world and its insanity, before Lidya had to put her nightborne costume on again and go back to the harsh, real world.

For a while, it worked out great for her. The campaign in Suramar was progressing slowly, but it was progressing, and she had good echoes from the rest of the champions and the rest of the Broken Isles. Ilana rarely came talk to her, but Lidya understood that she needed some space to think about what she had offered her, and she had no doubt that if she ever needed the demon hunter she would come help her.

For a while, all was almost great, considering the circumstances, but Lidya should have know that it couldn’t go on.

She should have known that, at some point, her life was going to crash and burn at her feet.

The problem was that she only realized that once she was in a cage, prisoner to the Legion and with approximately no chance of survival.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya slid off the saber she had borrowed to ride to the city, knees buckling under her, and her next breath got stuck somewhere around her Adam’s Apple as she looked around.

The air around her was suffocating, charged with sulfur and smelling of death and burnt carcasses.

 _Everyone is dead_ , she thought as she gave a small pat on the saber’s flank and finally took a step forward.

There was a body only a meter to her right, but she didn’t check for a pulse, the half-melted off face enough to have her guess about that person’s fate. It made her want to throw up, but looking away meant looking at the small pile of small bodies, still giving off green fumes from fel fire. They had all been scorched to death, but it wasn’t hard to recognize dead children from dead adults.

She hadn’t thought the elves capable of doing that. All those people, they were _civilians_. Innocents trying to survive the war and their hunger. They didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

She started walking again once she was sure she could stay upright, eyes filling with tears after each body she found.

She had given arcwine to this family, had talked to this tailor about stitching techniques, had held that father as he had wept for his exiled daughter.

“I’ll find her,” she had told him, “I’ll find her and I’ll make sure she’s taken care of. I won’t let her wither.”

She had kept her promise. The girl was safely in Shal’aran, still master of her actions and willing to fight with them.

Lidya knelt next to him and gently closed his eyelids over his whited out eyes, a sob trying to force its way out of her throat even as she pushed it down with everything she had.

When Thalyssra had asked her to go to the Waning Crescent and look at what was happening, since she had lost all contact with Ly’leth and the portal wasn’t working anymore, she had expected something bad to have happened, but not of this magnitude.

She had to find survivors, and fast, because whatever Elisandre’s army had done here, she had no idea whether they would come back or not.

Getting up, Lidya determinedly started to walk to Vanthir’s inn, where most of the resistance had happened, and found, without great surprise, the building empty and still burning in some places.

She put the fires out, heart sinking in her chest, and went back out in the street.

 _Now what, Lidya?_ she thought, looking around at the dead bodies.

Her mind was buzzing a little and the fel fumes weren’t helping, but mostly she didn’t move because all she wanted to do was sit down on the ground and cry for a while.

She needed to get back to Shal’aran and tell Thalyssra about what had happened, but just as she was taking a step, she heard a noise.

Squating down behind a turned over table, Lidya listened carefully, holding her breath when she heard voices.

“She’s right here!” yelled a disgusting little voice, and Lidya looked up with surprise to discover an imp grinning down at her from a balcony.

Swearing, she got up and started running, dodging fireballs and hearing several pairs of feet following.

She didn’t know if other parts of the city had been attacked too, but she was willing to bet that they wouldn’t be able to find her in the Bazaar, so that’s where she decided to go.

An arcane ball brushed past her fast, scorching the tip of her hair, and she put her blazing barrier up, a spell hitting her square in the back and almost making her lose her footing just as she was finished.

Sprinting faster, the bridge that would lead her to the Bazaar appeared and Lidya casted her invisibility spell, knowing that it would take a few seconds to take effect. She started crossing the bridge while the spell started getting in effect and heard the elves behind her curse as she turned invisible but that didn’t seem to stop them from casting spells and throwing them around. Lidya managed to dodge two felballs before something caught her in the back, right between the shoulder blades, shattering her barrier and making her fall on her knees as her invisibility spell broke, leaving her there on the ground for everyone to see.

Cursing desperately, she looked over her shoulder at the dozen of armed elves and the two giant demons with them, and had to accept defeat.

She used the second they took to reach her to cast an invisibility spell on Fel’melorn and throw it into the canals, before getting up on staggering legs and focusing on lowering her body temperature as much as she could, being a fire mage, before letting an ice block close around her.

The first demon to reach her groaned, his claws making a screechy sound when they scraped against the ice, but Lidya knew it would hold on, and as long as it did, they couldn’t get to her and she was fine.

  


  


***

  


The doors to Khadgar’s chambers were kicked open by a furious demon hunter, who threw a blade on his bed and turned her covered and blind eyes to him while he raised an eyebrow, offered a small apologetic smile to Modera and Meryl, and straightened from his hunch over the maps they had been studying.

“Ilana,” he said, calm as always, wondering what could have her act like that.

“Lidya,” she said between clenched teeth, hands in tight fists, obviously trying very hard to stay calm – and not doing a very good job at it.

Meryl took a small step back while Modera prudently uncrossed her arms and widened her stance just a little.

“They have her,” continued the demon hunter after almost of full minute of clenched teeth and labored breathing.

“Who?” asked Meryl, but it was Khadgar who answered him.

“The Legion,” he said, his eyes not leaving Ilana’s. It wasn’t a question and she didn’t treat it as such. She simply turned to his bed and the glowing orangy-red blade resting on it.

“I found it in Suramar’s canals. No one’s heard from her in a week and the entire resistance was burned down by the nightborne’s army. I could only find two survivors.”

“No,” murmured Meryl, but Ilana was already shaking her head.

“We need to find her, she might still be alive.”

“If it’s been a week…” started Modera, but Ilana just shook her head again.

“She’s valuable, they won’t kill her for a while, but we need to act _soon_.”

Khadgar nodded, whole body tense.

“I’ll gather some people while you tell Modera how you came to find her sword,” he said, stepping to Ilana and giving a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder. “We’ll find her,” he murmured.

A muscle jumped in Ilana’s jaw and she patted his hand before stepping away.

Khadgar watched her for a breath, heart squeezing in his chest until it hurt, before he was leaving his chambers with long strides.

  


  


***

  


  


They put her in a cage, ice block and everything, and the sound of the door closing behind her and being locked had an air of fatality, not that she let it distract her from keeping her temperature as cold as she could while still staying aware of what was happening around her.

She was still in the city, at least for now, and the cage was empty which, judging by the withered banging around their own cages next to her, was a small blessing. They were probably waiting for her ice block to melt before doing anything – which she had counted on when casting it, but she wasn’t sure how long it would hold. She had already managed to keep it up for longer than she ever had, and she could already feel the strain of it. She wasn’t a frost mage and knew that even if she was, she couldn’t keep it up for ever.

All she could do was hope that help wouldn’t be too long.

  


  


***

  


  


The search party for Archmage Lidya consisted of most of the Tirisgarde and a group of various adventurers. Even the Shadowblade and Battlelord, who were Horde, came to help.

Ilana who, for egoistical reasons, felt responsible for Lidya’s disappearance – because if she had been there then maybe they wouldn’t have gotten her – decided that it fell on her to tell Varian.

She found him at the Keep in Stormwind, in the throne room with Anduin and Genn, and all three saluted her like they normally would, which only made matter worse because they had _no idea_ and Ilana was about to probably break their heart.

She knew her reputation didn’t show it, but she actually didn’t like making people cry and despair.

“Is everything okay?” asked Anduin when his eyes fell on her, always worrying for other people.

“I need you three to stay calm,” she said.

All three frowned and Varian even took a step closer to her.

“What is going on?” he asked.

Ilana looked into his eyes, knowing that she was going to break him, and said with her calmest voice: “Lidya went missing, we’re pretty sure the Legion has her.”

“How much is pretty sure?” asked Varian, already gritting his teeth and closing his hands in tight fists.

“99%.”

She looked for signs of dismay, and she had to admit that he was good at hiding his emotions, but the pain and horror and fear In his eyes was clear as day, and Ilana’s chest hurt in sympathy for a moment.

“How?” he articulated, obviously making a huge effort.

“We don’t know yet, but we found her sword in Suramar and civilians were killed by demons. We still don’t know what happened exactly.”

Anduin stepped to his father and put a comforting hand on his shoulder as Varian closed his eyes for a moment and lowered his head.

“I’ll find her,” said Ilana after a short silence. “No matter what it takes, I’ll find her.”

Varian opened his eyes to look at her, and for the first time since meeting him, Ilana actually believed all the stories she had heard about him.

  


  


***

  


  


They moved her after five days, once it was clear that the ice block was melting around her and it wouldn’t be long until she had to stop and let her own warmth transform it to water. No one had tried to melt it, and she knew they were doing it because letting her maintain the spell was using up the last of her mana and energy, but after thinking about it for as long as she had been in the cage, she finally had a solid plan. She wasn’t exactly confident about her chances of success, mostly because her entire plan depended on something that she had never done once in her life before and was the reason she had been expelled from Dalaran with Archmage Draerin.

Still, a plan was better than nothing and at least, once she was out of mana, the demons swarming around wouldn’t see it coming, thinking her too weak – or at least she hoped.

It took another day before the ice around her was finally too thin and cracked, leaving her to fall on the bars making up the floor of the cage and the dusty ground underneath it.

The hypothermia hit before she even touched the ground, leaving her shaking violently, soaked wet and numb all over.

The demons watching her started laughing loudly over the groans coming from the withered in the neighboring cages.

She closed her eyes and ignored them, focusing on getting her teeth to not rattle so hard that it hurt her head.

Five minutes later, she was getting dragged out of her cage by two elves.

  


***

  


  


Varian had had his heart broken quite a few times, but he had never thought that the Legion capturing the woman he loved would one day be one of the reasons he was left with a knot in his throat and a gaping hole in his chest.

“You need to eat something,” said Genn, taking him out of his morose contemplation of his plate’s content.

“I can’t,” he said, looking up into his eyes. “I should be out there, looking for her.”

“You’re the High King of the Alliance, you’re more needed here.”

“Lidya needs me a lot more than the Alliance right now.”

Genn sighed heavily, put his fork down and his elbows on the table, slightly leaning in Varian’s direction.

“Do you know why I respect Lidya so much?”

Varian shook his head.

“She got me to Gilneas, after I arrived here.”

“You went back?!”

“Of course I did,” scoffed Genn. “I had to go back and get some things. Memories, of my son, my parents, of what Gilneas represents. I asked her to get me there, and she did, and you know what? Once we were back she let me cry in her arms all night long and told me about her adventures.”

“She’s great like that.”

“Yes, and she already has a _lot_ of people looking all over the Broken Isles for her, you need to focus on your own problems. They’ll find her, I have no doubt about it.”

“And if they don’t?”

“ _They will,_ ” replied Genn, looking straight into his eyes and putting all the determination he was capable of in his voice.

Gritting his teeth, Varian nodded before looking back down at his plate.

He hoped Genn was right.

  


  


***

  


  


The only time Lidya had been captured had been on The Isle of Thunder. The blood elves had gotten their hands on her and she had spent the four days she had been in captivity discussing books with Lor’themar Theron and the decline of their favorite author’s quality of writing.

They had set her free after four days because they had judged that it was long enough for the high elves and mages with the Alliance to get scared without making it seem like a direct attack.

It had still taken another day for Lidya to talk Narasi out of retaliation, but all in all it had been a good experience.

Being captured by the Legion was, unsurprisingly quite the contrary.

Lidya was still feeling the effects of hypothermia when they started torturing her, but it was a blessing in disguise – she felt too fuzzy to focus on what they were telling her, this way she was sure not to reveal anything. It didn’t help with the pain though, and once they were finished they had to drag her back to her cage because she couldn’t move, the pain paralyzing, leaving her on the dirty floor shaking, one last scream stuck in her throat as she tried to breathe through it.

Some guard threw a bucket of water on her a while later, just as she was starting to drowse, and she found no shame in licking away the drops of water that had fallen on her arms and hands.

She’d need all the mana she could get.

  


  


***

  


  


The hypothermia and torture messed with her mind so much that she only realized that some time had past when she was pushed into her cage one day and found a withered there, waiting in a corner.

For a second, they just watched each other, Lidya with blood running down the side of her face and from her nose, the withered shaking badly with their arm wrapped around themselves.

Then Lidya shivered violently because the hypothermia had turned into an infection that left her feverish, and the withered lunged at her like a beast, teeth first and aiming for the neck.

The mage, despite being pretty bad at hand-to-hand combat and the fact that she was kneeling on the ground with absolutely nothing to defend herself managed to move so her shoulder took the injury instead of her neck – and she was pretty sure it would have killed her otherwise, judging from the way the withered managed to bite a chunk of her shoulder off, spit it out on the ground and try again. Lidya stopped it with a kick in the stomach, unable to stop herself from yelling in pain as blood poured from her injury, the pain almost making her lose consciousness, but it only granted her one second to sit up before the withered was attacking her again.

This time, Lidya pushed it back using a trick a shado-pan had taught her while she was in Pandaria and managed to grab it by its long hair and slam its head against the cage’s bars hard enough that the entire thing rattled.

The withered stayed conscious though, so she did it again, and again, and again, until it fell limply to the ground when her grip slipped and didn’t move again.

She only realized that the two guards who usually took her in and out of the cage for the torture sessions had been watching the entire thing when she fell back against the farthest corner of the cage from the withered and heard one of them mutter something under his breath.

She turned to them, now covered in blood from her injury and the withered’s blood that had flown everywhere when she was smashing its face, shaking like a leaf from the adrenaline pumping in her veins and, more than anything, crying loudly. She hadn’t realized she was so loud, but the entire room where the cages were stashed had fallen to complete silence when she had been attacked and everything and everyone present was now staring at her without making a noise while she sobbed loudly and hyperventilated.

The guards didn’t say anything. They just watched her with big horrified eyes and she cursed them in Draenei without even thinking, the language falling from her tongue as naturally as Common. She continued, growing more and more agitated by the second and making less and less sense until they left, and once she was alone, she continued speaking in Draenei, turning her curses into prayers to the Light.

She hadn’t heard those words in a long time but they felt as familiar as ever, and once she was done praying she finally put her plan to action, because it was clear now that no one would find her without help.

It wasn’t exactly a hard spell, but she hadn’t ever practiced it and it had obviously been perfected since the first time Draerin had started experimenting with it.

He was a visionary, her mentor, and she still couldn’t believe he had known that the elves would one day need a source of power different from the Sunwell.

Still shaking and making a point of not looking at the dead withered with its brain splashed all over the other side of the cage, Lidya grabbed a bar and got on her knees with difficulty, turning to the other withereds in their cages, who had started to make noise again.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, before raising a hand in their direction, closing her eyes and focusing hard.

The fire usually burning at her core was nothing more than embers, so it was easier to call on the arcane magic flowing in her veins and focus it. She tried projecting it four times before it finally worked, and she felt it reach out into the room and hold onto the withereds there, attracted to the last traces of the Nightwell in them.

It latched onto their magic, the withereds starting to moan with agitation, and Lidya sent a quick prayer to the Light for them before she was calling the arcane energy back into her, taking the Nightwell’s power and last traces of mana they had with her.

They all fell on the ground one after the other, dead, while Lidya was left gasping up at the ceiling, entire body buzzing with this new found energy, but she had to push it all down and kill her fire again, stay focused on arcane while she casted her spell.

She had to stop twice to dry heave, almost passing out each time, before finally managing to do it.

“Oh Lidya...” sighed the image of Vargoth she had successfully summoned.

When she looked up at him through tears and blood, he looked almost the same as usual. His eyes were unfocused, his hair all over the place and his left hand very badly shaking for absolutely no reason, but there was something in his eyes and in the unusually serious set of his jaw that had her suddenly feel hopeful.

Vargoth would help her. He knew how serious the situation was.

“Help,” she tried to say, but her voice was hoarse from screaming for hours and her throat was too dry, all she managed to get out was a muted croak.

“Where are you?” he asked, kneeling down.

She knew he wasn’t really here, but it made her feel better.

“Mi–Millhouse...” she murmured in between sobs.

“Millhouse?” repeated the archmage, frowning. “What about him?”

“Found him...”

Her head lolled back and if it wasn’t for the sharp pain that suddenly surged through her shoulder at the movement, she wouldn’t have still been conscious for Vargoth’s next question, not that she heard it through the cotton and loud pounding in her ears.

“I think I’ve been here before...” she murmured, looking down at her shirt. It used to be blue and yellow but was now a deep red, reminding her of something else. “Azuremyst,” she said, smiling faintly, “Remember the red water? Your brother always forced us to go there.” She looked up at the man looking down at her. His lips were moving but she couldn’t hear a thing he was saying.

She also couldn’t remember where she knew him from.

“I hope you’re still in Shattrath with him,” she added, ignoring the way the man in front of her was blinking in and out of existence because it was becoming increasingly harder to keep her eyes open and she really wanted to finish telling him. “He makes a mean sauce that tastes great with everything. Try it with fish. You like fish, uh?”

The man in front of her disappeared and this time, when her head lolled back, her whole body followed the movement.

  


  


***

  


  


Millhouse had absolutely no idea what Lidya had been talking about up until the moment Ilana grabbed him by the throat and held him up against a wall at her eye-level – meaning that there was a good meter and a half between the gnome’s feet and the floor. After just one dangerous hiss from the demon hunter he admitted that maybe he had an idea and maybe it was that Lidya was held somewhere in the Arcway, where they had crossed path and she had recruited him. Maybe.

Ilana almost hissed at Meryl when she thought that he wasn’t casting his portal quickly enough.

She lead the fight against the demons with Kayn, Allari and a dozen other Illidari who had volunteered for the mission while Vargoth and two conjurers followed them closely, looking around and trying to recognize something.

It took them a long time, too long according to Ilana, but they did find her, and she was still alive. Barely, but it was better than nothing.

The state they found her in though, it had everyone stop and take a second – and the fact that demon hunters who had teared their own eyes out had to stop and take it all in before moving said a lot.

Lidya was laying on her side on the ground, covered in blood. It was on her hair, on her face, all over her hands and clothes. There was even some on her lips and on the tip of her eyelashes.

Near her legs was a dead withered, covered in blood too, although it had more to do with the fact that its forehead and at least half of the content of its skull was spilled all over that side of the cage, but mostly on the bars.

It wasn’t hard to guess what had happened to it, but _still_. Ilana had a hard time imagining her Lidya doing that to anything or anyone.

She was so caught up in trying to make sense of it that it was Kayn who finally stepped to the cage, broke the lock and gently took Lidya out of it, cradling her close to his chest in a way Ilana had never seen him do before. Ilana immediately ordered Vargoth to cast a portal to Dalaran but didn’t look away from Kayn, watching closely at the way he was holding her.

He was making sure that he didn’t hurt her by holding her too close or tight, but was also keeping her maybe just a little too close for someone who didn’t care about her.

It warmed Ilana’s cold dead heart a little, to think that even Kayn Sunfury could warm up to somebody who had nothing to do with Illidan and their mission.

  


  


***

  


  


One of the healers gasped loudly when Kayn gently put Lidya down on a bed and another one gagged when they took her shirt away and found bits of her shoulder missing as if it had been bitten off.

It probably had.

Still, Ilana stayed until the priests and druids started working and left them to it as soon as she was sure the archmage was in good hands. Watching them discover every single one of her injuries made her feel uneasy, furious and helpless. She should have saved her from that. She should have found her earlier. She should have been with her when they took her, _at least_. Shared some of her pain.

If she had been there, she knew they wouldn’t have hurt her like that. An Illidari was a better price for the Legion, they all knew that.

“Come on,” muttered Kayn, gently grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her after him through the busy streets of Dalaran.

He got them into an inn, the one that accepted people from the two factions, and ordered drinks for them that Ilana drank without much prompting.

They spent at least two hours there, not speaking, only drinking shot after shot, only stopping when they couldn’t feel their face anymore, and once it was done, they got back to Mardum and raided Belath’s stash of hidden booze he had managed to import directly from Outland.

Akama’s shade spent the entire time staring at them while the two demon hunters made fun of him because they couldn’t decide whether he looked disapproving or jealous.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya woke up to something yellow next to her face. She stared at it for a while, trying to understand what it was and whether it was dangerous or not, before finally deciding that there was only one way to know. She slowly raised her right hand and brushed her fingers against it before the entire thing was moving away and disappearing, leaving a smiling face in its place.

“Hey you’re awake!” smiled the person as Lidya frowned, not understanding what had just happened. “Don’t worry, it was just my hair, I know I should probably keep it in a braid of something, but it just feels better when it’s free, you know? Anyway, you’re awake, that’s good. How do you feel?”

She just blinked at the woman, confused.

“Where am I?” she asked, voice hoarse.

It hurt to speak, but she wasn’t thirsty anymore and actually felt like she could move without immediately passing out or throwing up. Also, she was pretty sure she had been shaking and shivering non-stop the last time she had been awake – and covered in blood. She remembered that very clearly.

“Oh, right, sorry. You’re in Dalaran. You were rescued from the Legion about a week ago, but we kept you asleep while we healed you so you wouldn’t suffer too much. They had really done a number to you and your shoulder...” she paused to shiver and make a disgusting pout. “Anyway, you’re better now and everyone will be so happy. Archmage Khadgar has been visiting you daily,” she added with a wink.

For some reason the wink finally made something click in Lidya’s head and she finally realized that if the woman looked so strange to her confused brain it was because she wasn’t human but a high elf. That explained the long flowing hair and the long eyebrows too.

“Is Thalyssra okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know who that is,” replied the woman before gently putting her hand on Lidya’s left shoulder, Light passing between her palm and the mage’s skin.

Lidya immediately relaxed and closed her eyes, letting the Light warm her skin in that particular way that didn’t fell like fire at all. The woman said something, but she didn’t pay any attention to it, basking into the feeling of finally not hurting anymore and knowing that she was safe, and she fell asleep without realizing.

  


  


***

  


  


The next time she woke up, things weren’t as good.

She didn’t hurt, not after being healed for an entire week, but she was a lot less confused and actually knew who she was, where she was and what had happened to her – and _that_ was hard.

She also remembered grabbing the withered by its hair and bashing its head into the cage’s bars until the poor thing was dead, its brains all over the room and Lidya.

She gagged at the memory and sat up on the bed, reaching for the glass of water someone had left on the bedside table for her and drinking it as slowly as she could, making sure to enjoy every second of it.

Light, she didn’t think she could live with the knowledge that she had done that.

She stayed there for a while once she had finished the water, eyes lost at the bottom of the empty glass, tears threatening to run down her face at any moment.

She had seen a lot of terrible things, but what the Legion had done… she didn’t have words for it, in any of the languages that she spoke.

The door to the room was brusquely opened and she raised her blazing barrier in pure reflex as she jumped in surprise – and some fear, too.

Vargoth, who was on the doorway and looked a little more in control than usual, threw her a sorry look, before he stepped in and closed the door.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said, sitting down on a chair placed near the door, on the other side of the room.

Lidya appreciated the fact that he didn’t come any closer.

“It’s okay,” she replied, voice a little too hoarse, “I’m a little jumpy.”

He gave her a meaningful look. “I know.”

She looked back down at the glass, still teary, and bit down very hard on her lips.

“The healers didn’t want me to come talk to you at first, they said you needed some time alone with a priest first, but I’ve been where you’ve been, in a way.”

Lidya nodded, still not looking at him.

“I’m not going to tell you that it gets better with time, because I don’t know, and you’ve seen me, right?”

He chuckled and she couldn’t help but do it too, looking up at him with a tiny forced smile.

“It’s not so bad,” she said. “And you _did_ get better in the few weeks you’ve been back.”

“I have Ravandwyr to thank for that.”

She looked away again, hesitating for a second before asking: “How did he take it? For me, I mean…”

“Badly, but not as badly as Ilana, so at least there’s that.”

Nodding, Lidya started running the tip of her finger along the glass’ edge, a question burning her lips but she knew she couldn’t ask.

“I’ve seen you leave the last ball, you know,” said Vargoth after a moment, “and I’m quite familiar with secret relationships. You don’t have to worry, your secret is safe with me.”

She nodded, again, but kept quiet.

“Ilana told him, and while I wasn’t here when it happened, I _was_ in the same room as him when he was told that you had been found and the healers reported to him your injuries and how they were treated.”

Lidya’s stomach tied itself in a knot and she tried to swallow but it only brought more tears in her eyes.

“He tried not to show it, but he looked very affected.”

“Where is he now?” she murmured.

“He’s with the rest of the Council, some Grand Marshals and a few of the Horde’s Warlords, discussing strategy.”

“Am I going to have to go in front of all these people and tell them what happened?”

“I’m afraid yes,” mutely replied Vargoth, sending her a sympathetic yet sad smile when their eyes met. “It’s scheduled tonight.”

“And Ilana?”

“Ilana lead the search party and the rescue mission. She’s the one who found your weapon, and she took it very badly.”

“Yeah, I had guessed so…”

He smiled.

“I was surprised with how much all the Illidaris felt concerned and like it was their duty to find you.”

“They’re a bunch of softies, once you get to know them,” she replied, managing a smile of her own.

“Still. Everyone is very glad that we got you back in one piece.”

She touched her shoulder at that, the skin still a little tender to the touch, but no bit was missing anymore and she had to admit that the healers had done a tremendous work.

“I don’t want people to know,” she admitted after a while, shyly looking up at him, “about what happened to me there, I mean.”

“I know. I was questioned by the Council too when you brought me back, and I could barely speak coherently at the time, but I had Ravandwyr with me, and it helped a lot. I couldn’t have done it without him, in fact, and you won’t be alone either. I’ll be there. Khadgar will be there. The High King will be there, Ilana too.”

“I don’t want anyone to know,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to remember it.”

Something like pity and hurt flashed in his eyes and she looked away from him, hunching her shoulders, suddenly feeling small and very breakable – although Light knew she wasn’t, because she had _survived_ all those atrocities.

“Could you leave me please? I want to sleep some more.”

“Of course,” immediately replied Vargoth, getting up but hesitating for a moment, his eyes on her, before he left, the sound of the door closing behind him resonating in the room.

  


  


***

  


  


Vargoth came to get her that night, and he teleported her outside the big war room in the Violet Keep in silence, offering her a nod before he opened the door and let her step in.

The first person her eyes jumped to was Varian, of course. It was almost funny, how it looked like he was sitting in the middle of the table although it was round, but Lidya really didn’t feel like laughing, and she immediately looked down at her feet as she joined the two free chairs around the table.

She sat to Ilana’s right, and Vargoth sat down next to her, to Ravandwyr’s left.

“We’re very glad to have you back Archmage,” said Khadgar, who was next to Varian.

Lidya didn’t reply.

There were about twenty people sitting around the table, most of them heavily armored people from the two factions who looked like they were in the military, along with the Council, Ilana, Ravandwyr, three high elves dressed like healers and, of course, Varian.

Lidya only wanted to see about five of them.

“I’m not going to speak in front of all those people,” she said after a moment, looking up and meeting Varian’s blue-gray eyes.

His face was completely closed off but his eyes said everything she needed to know.

He wanted to walk to her the same way she wanted to walk to him and just hold him for a while.

“Who do you want out?” he asked.

“All the military people.”

He nodded. “Anyone else?”

“Archmage Ansirem.” Varian nodded again and cut off Ansirem’s protests with a raised hand. “The healers. Ilana probably shouldn’t listen too, and Vargoth will be triggered I think.”

“That’s all?”

She nodded.

“Well,” said Varian, not looking away from her, “you all heard her.”

People grumbled but there was no arguing Varian’s tone and they all got up and left, except Ilana, who grabbed Lidya’s hand, intertwined their fingers and squeezed.

“Now,” said Khadgar in the dead silent room, “could you tell us about what happened?”

Eyes never leaving Varian’s, Lidya squeezed Ilana’s fingers too and started speaking.

Ravandwyr left the room at some point, closely followed by Kalec, but Lidya never paused her account, knowing that if she did, she wouldn’t start back again, and she watched, as Varian’s mask held despite the tears in his eyes, the nervous bobbing of his Adam’s Apple and the tension in his shoulders.

His hands were in fists on the table and she almost reached out to grab them twice, but managed to stop herself every time.

She held on, because she was absolutely certain that if she started crying, he would follow her and would hate the fact that people saw him like that, and she managed to go through all the events she had went through, finishing with how she had contacted Vargoth.

“That will be all,” said Varian and as one Ilana, Khadgar and Karlain got up and left as quickly as possible.

Modera took more time, but she squeezed Lidya’s shoulder comfortingly as she passed near her, and closed the door behind her, leaving Lidya and Varian, sitting in front of each other around the giant table.

They just looked at each other for a while, until Varian’s mask finally shattered, the pain and sorrow spreading across his face and etching itself into every single one of his pore in the blink of an eye.

Lidya got up from her chair when he did and watched as he rounded the table and joined her in fast and long strides, letting him gently pull her against his chest.

She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around him and let him tuck her close, one of his hand cupping the back of her head, before he pressed a kiss against the crown of her head, bent down to press his forehead against her shoulder and, to Lidya’s absolute surprise, broke down into sobs.

She held him tighter, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, and inhaled his scent sharply, her own eyes burning with unshed tears and her heart hurting.

“It’s okay,” she murmured right against his ear, one hand leaving his back to join his head as she started stroking his hair, “I’m here. I’m alright.”

He shook his head, his sobs getting louder.

“I’m alright Varian, I’m fine.”

He held her closer and tighter instead of replying.

  


  


***

  


Lidya was running her fingers up and down Varian’s naked back, gratefulness and love filling her chest.

They were in her bed in her chambers, and she didn’t know how Varian had lost his shirt during the night, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity she was waking up in her own bed, safe and sound and with him snoring softly next to her, and she didn’t want to ever move.

She continued to stroke his warm skin, pausing for a second on the large scar running from his left shoulder blade to the bottom of his ribs on his right side, and she smiled, heart growing two sizes, as he sighed and murmured her name in his sleep.

He had taken her clothes off the night before and kissed every single new scar that the healers hadn’t been able to get rid off before making her come slowly only using his fingers, holding her close with his free hand. Then, after she had insisted on returning the favor, they had showered together, put pajamas on and fallen asleep, Varian spooning her.

They hadn’t talked much, but she didn’t really think there was a lot to say. He now knew what had happened to her, and she was eager to forget all about it as soon as possible.

She just hoped he had managed to free his busy schedule for the next three days, because she was planning on doing a lot of cuddling and kissing, and absolutely no work at all.

Unfortunately other people hadn’t gotten the memo, because just as she was pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, someone knocked on the door.

Sighing, Lidya considered ignoring it for a second, but the person on the other side knocked again, louder, and she got up as Varian stirred a little, not wanting for him to wake up.

She stumbled to the door and opened it with the firm intention of telling her visitor off, but just as she was opening her mouth to speak, she met blue eyes she hadn’t seen in years and a coy smile that just couldn’t be taught.

Joy filling her in a way it hadn’t in a long while, she just gaped for a second, trying to register that she wasn’t having an hallucination.

“Archmage,” she said after a while.

“Achmage,” replied the high elf, an amused smile curling his lips, “congratulations on the title.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You sent me a letter. You also almost died very recently, if I’m not mistaken.”

She nodded and just kept looking at him for a while.

She hadn’t seen him since the Cataclysm, when the relation between the Horde and the Alliance had taken a very sour turn, and she had to admit that she had missed him terribly. He was her mentor, but not just that. He was her oldest friend, the only person who had always been there for her, and she owed him everything she had. He had offered her a job and a home after she had come back from Outland and his “I told you so,” when she had cried in his arms for days, hadn’t been as acerbic as it should have been.

She also hadn’t been expecting him to visit her here, in Dalaran. He hadn’t set foot in the city ever since being thrown out of the Kirin Tor, and she had only hoped for a written answer when she had sent her letter – yet here he was.

Archmage Draerin, in the flesh in front of her.

She finally moved, first to hug him for a second, feeling a little lighter when he hugged her back, then she moved back and fully opened the door to her chambers and let him in.

“I see the rumors about you and the king are true,” he said, sending a quick look at her bed – where Varian had moved and only part of his head was visible under the covers now – before striding to the big table on the other side of the room.

“Not king anymore,” grumbled Varian, grabbing the cover and pulling it until he was totally covered.

Lidya bit down on her lower lip, heart about to explode with how happy she was after the past several miserable weeks, and she sat down next to Draerin in silence.

“Does he speak Thalassian?” he asked in that language after she had sat down.

Looking over her shoulder at her bed, she shrugged a shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, in Thalassian too.

“Good, because I have a lot of gossip to share,” he said, and she leaned closer, smiling.


End file.
